Forced
Macard's bandaged feet pounded against the cool, wet forest floor as he disappeared in and out of the trees, his figure only a ghost to the naked eye as he traced a maze of tracks under the moonlight. He wasn't quite sure why he was running all he knew was that he had to keep going or he was going to pass out. Buzzing ferociously at his side was his activated lightboton, guiding him through the otherwise darkness of the night. The soft pale lavender glow of the weapon proved to be just enough to keep him from sidesweeping trees and rocks, otherwise he would just slash at the object and it would no longer be an obstacle. As he was running he felt his light-source growing weaker and weaker the longer he ran, he then realised that he didn't have much time left to keep this up. He had to at least make do with a tiny flame soon or he would be doomed to darkness. Running at a steady pace he reached to his sling and pulled out a bow and as he brought up his knee, snapped it in half, tossing the arrow part over his shoulder he raised the lightboton to the other half of the bow and it soon shone with a bright purple light, slowly fading to lavender like the weapon. He had predicted correctly, his lightboton burned out not too later afterwards and he had only the bow he set on fire to guide his way. Finally after what felt like hours he stopped running and flew foward onto the forest floor. His chin connected with the dirt and fased in and out between his human disguise and natural form before finally returning to human. His chest heaved in and out as he breathed at a fast rate, he had never ran that fast nor that much ever before. He decided to just lay there for a while so he shifted to his back and stared up at the gleaming white globe in the sky, the stars and moon were both at its best that night with nothing obscuring his view. Suddenly he felt a familiar pang hit his gut as he stared beyond the stars and moon. If one could look so closely for such a long time, they could spot their second moon Autriuw which turned out to be a planet to many, Vortians, Screwheads, all the lot and strangely enough, barely any true Autriuwn lived there. Macard was half Vortian half Autriuwn. He had the look of a Vortian but the accent and language of the Autriwn. No-one ever really clarified where his Vortian appearance came from and Macard himself learned not to question it after all the training that he had and still was going through. Sometimes, however, he would ponder on the question especially when he was by himself with no other sound except nature at work. Master told him that they had rescued him for Vort during the invasion but that was hard to believe since he was told that no-one was allowed to enter Vort during the Irken Invasion on account of those like his Master, no allies, no enemies, no-one was allowed not even other Irkens. It was strictly only Invaders and the Tallest. Macard yawned and his eyes closed, the bright icey-blue orbs were shut behind olive skinned eyelids. He curled up on the ground, his light source still wrapped in one of his hands. Maybe a nap was a good reward for his hard work... The rustle of branches shook his mind awake and his body on full alert, he got to his feet and swung around the lighted bow to look for any danger. "Make yourself visible, coward!" he shouted to the trees. No voice or sound was heard in reply, only the silence of the night. What he didn't know was that high above him was a bright-spirited, free-souled young girl looking down at him with wide clear eyes, her purple bangs slightly obstructing her vision. With a sigh he shuffled his feet and sat back down on the ground, cross-legged now unable to even blink as his distrusting eyes searched around him. Eventually his adrenaline faded and he soon felt a wave of fatigue overcome him. Almost automatically he laid back down on the cool ground and closed his eyes once more, this time he didn't open them again. Meanwhile up in the treetops two clear eyes looked below to the sleeping figure in interest and second later were gone, only a dry-streak of reds and violets followed as green wings beat mercilessly at the air. Hovering only a foot off the ground, the young girl stared down at Macard almost sharing the same body heat. Her feet touched the ground with a crunch of her high-tops and the breif 'whoosh' of her wings folding back. Cloaked in a black robe she bent down to Macard's face, taking in the details of his features with interest. A smirk danced across her lips as bright white teeth gleamed in reflection of the moon. She pulled her sleevless arms out from under the dark fabric of her robe which had a small bottle encased around her fingers. She took off the cork-top and poured some of the liquid onto the sleeping Vortian's mat of golden wig hair, it shone brightly for a moment and then worked its magic. The Irken smiled in satisfaction before taking flight back to the sky and with a final glance at Macard's inert figure, took off in the night leaving only the whirling wind evidence of her appearance that night. The first thing Macard felt when he woke up was the bright sunlight coming from inbetween the branches of the tall trees surrounding him, he heard the birds chirping and smelled the stench of the outdoors. It took him several moments to take this all in and finally remember he chose to "sleep on the ground" last night. With a rub of his eyes he sat up and looked down to his severed bow which was still bright with the purple flame, he dumped water on the stick and it went out without any smoke or fog. He dusted of his robes and stood on his bare feet, only the bloody bandages were keeping him from direct contact with mother Earth. After reorginizing his stuff and clearing the evidence of him being there he set off to the supply closet to catch up on more sleep for it was merely only in the early 4's. It was strange how he made it out of the forest easier than he had gotten in and through it, in fact he could easily see the tall headquarters that he had decided to call home for the time being until his Master found a place for them. He rode the evevator to the top floor and started for the closet in the way back, he though of his bed and how to not wake up the others. He activated his lightboton for a second to check if he was in the right hallway and started for the large pane-glass doors to Chat. He lightly, slowly, carefully slid one of the doors open and was hit by snoring, typing, and whispering. He tip-toed in and out of the messy, disarrayed room finally to face his room door. He pushed on the thick closet door and closed it tightly before switching on the lights to a dim setting. In the far back he could see his Master on his own secluded cot, sleeping soundly or maybe not, he wasn't very sure. All he knew was that he was going to get some more rest before another day of training comes in a couple of hours. He hoped that his Master hadn't heard his late arrival as he rested on his side, wind-swept looking hair covering his view for a couple of seconds before he drifted back off to slumber. Macard awoke to the sound of plates and silverware being washed, he sat up and called, "Szaciou! Did you sleep good?" "You always ask that, neem, ''and the answer will remain the same, yes I did." his Master rolled his eyes as he scrubbed a dark blue plate with a rag. "I'm just practicing concern for my master." Macard smirked as he walked into the tiny kitchen they had built in the even tinier closet. "You ALSO say that everytime, you're too much lik''e ''my cousin always mixing modern with studies." Nuqon's gaze then fixed to Macard's wig unoticably to the youngster, as he smiled slightly laughing to himself. Macard's eyebrow raised in confusion, "What are you laughing at?" "Oh nothing, like I said mixing modern with studies." Nuqon chuckled to himself and walked off somewhere. Macard's expression hardened and he 'hmph'ed at the indirect answer, walking off to the bathroom. He switched on the light and combed his fingers through the fake hair on top of his head. His hand froze as his expression instantly went to a shocked, horrified stare. Finally he let out an enraged scream, awaking any other sleeping souls. Including the culprit herself as she smirked again satisfied with her handy-work. Macard blasted the closet door off his hinges and with bright now crimson eyes, screamed threateningly," WHO.. DYED... MY... HAIR... '''RAINBOW'?!"